Levi's Blue: A Sexy Southern Romance (20 page)

 

CHAPTER 19

EVIE

 

LEVI CALLED ahead to say that he’d be back shortly after noon. He wanted to know if I was interested in room service. The way he said it—
room service,
like
I
am on the menu—made my stomach begin to flutter immediately. Of course, I said yes.

I showered and dressed in what I hope is a semi-sexy outfit of jeans that fit my butt just right and a thin, long-sleeved blouse that comes off one shoulder.  My feet are bare, and my hair is hanging loosely down my back.

I hear the snap of the lock as it opens to an electronic key, and I’m instantly filled to the brim with anticipation.  I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my lips as I stand perfectly still in the center of the room and wait for him to speak.

When he doesn’t say anything right away, I falter, calling out, “Levi?”

What if it’s the cleaning lady? Or what if it’s someone who somehow came into the wrong room?  They mix up keys all the time.

When there is no answer, I take a step back toward the couch, away from the door, which I’d been facing.

That action draws the air in front of me forward, rushing toward my face and carrying with it a familiar scent. 
His
scent.

Levi.

My smile returns, and my blood sings with delight. 

His voice pierces the sound of my hammering pulse.  “I honestly didn’t think you could look any better than you did last night, but…I stand corrected.”

I turn slightly, angling my hips toward the sound, and rub a palm over my butt.  “You like?”

“Like?  Those jeans…” he growls, his voice drawing closer.  “And that ass… I don’t like. I
love.

My chest swells with pleasure and glee.  “I’m told they fit me well.”

“Cherelyn?”

I nod.  “Cherelyn. She seems quite adept at capitalizing on my…assets.”

“I need to send her some flowers.”

I giggle as he wraps his arms around me, clamping both hands onto my ass and squeezing.

“Reminds me of how I left you this morning,” he murmurs, his lips near my ear.

I let out a huff of air, my lungs tight with a combination of embarrassment and lava-hot desire.  He’s referring to taking me from behind this morning. I still was lying face down when he left, trying to catch my breath. He bent and kissed my left butt cheek before walked out the door.

“I
think
I remember that,” I tease, lifting my chin so he can kiss along my jawline.

“You
think
?”  He sinks his teeth into my bottom lip and bites gently, then sucks the offended skin into his mouth.  A surge of desire floods my panties with heat and moisture.

Levi pulls my lower body toward him as he presses his hips into mine. I can feel his hardness nudging me.

I wind my arms around his neck, digging my fingers into his hair.  “Maybe I just need a reminder. My memory isn’t always so good.”

“Then, by all means, let me give you something you can’t
possibly
forget.”

It’s an hour and a half later before we make it back out to the living area to eat some of our cold lunch.

I’m sitting, cross-legged, on the couch wearing Levi’s shirt and nothing else, nibbling on a shrimp when Levi surprises me with some less than desirable news.

“I really hate to do this, but there’s been a change of plans. We’ll need to head back to Shreveport today. I need to be back in the city tonight.”

I do my best to hide my disappointment. I don’t know if it works or not, but I hope he can’t see how crushed I am. I’m not ready for this to be over yet. This trip
or
this relationship. And somehow, that’s what this feels like.

The end.

“Okay. Whatever you need to do.”

“I’m so sorry, Evie. I intended for us to stay longer. I wanted to show you the NOLA I know.”

I shrug, trying to act casual. “It’s fine.  This place isn’t going anywhere. At least I hope not.” I laugh, trying to sound breezy.

“I hope you’ll let me bring you back,” he says quietly, something oddly hopeless yet hope
ful
in his voice.

“I’d love that.”

And I would.

More than I care to admit.

“I’d like to get back early enough to come in to your place. There’s something I’d like to do when we get back if you don’t mind.”

I feel my lips curve, happiness and hope returning. Part of me wondered if he’d drop me off and I’d never hear from him again. Sadly, that’s happened to me before.  But this doesn’t sound like he intends to do anything like that.  Maybe,
just maybe
this is different.  Maybe,
just maybe
Levi is different. 

Really
different.

“I’d love that,” I say again.

We finish our meal in silence and, shortly after, Levi excuses himself to pack. I head to my room to do the same, pausing only long enough to call Cherelyn.

She answers the phone in a most unorthodox, yet totally Cherelyn way.  “Why the hell are you calling me when you’re supposed to be getting wined, dined, and
hopefully
sixty-nined in the country’s most romantic city?”

I laugh.

“Because I wanted to let you know I’ll be coming home tonight in case
you
are getting wined, dined, and sixty-nined in our apartment. I’d hate to interrupt in a very…untimely fashion.”

“Pffft, that thing with Reed is over. He’s a douche. Don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Cher.”

“Don’t be. Better to see it now rather than later.  Besides, I met a cute guy at the event I planned last night.  Maybe that’ll end up being something.”

“You’re never lonely for long, are you?” I ask with a shake of my head and a wry laugh.

“What’s the point?  It’s date or buy stock in batteries.  But enough about me. Why are you coming home?  What happened?  Did he flake out?  Did he hurt your feelings? I can drive down and get you if I need to. I’ll just need his address so I can go collect that dangly thing between his legs to mount on the wall.”

“No, no to all of that. And also,
ewwww! 
No, Levi is bringing me home because something happened, business-wise, and he needs to get back to Shreveport sooner than expected.”

“So, it’s been a good trip?”

I’m helpless to keep the swoon from my voice. “Very.”

She squeals and, as usual, the pitch is so high I have to hold the phone away from my ear. I’m still not convinced that Cherelyn’s family didn’t come by all their money from selling her scream to a dog whistle company.

“Are you there?” I hear her say. 

Hesitantly, I put the phone back to my ear. “Yes, with only minimal damage to my eardrum.”

She giggles. “Sorry. I got excited. I’m just so happy for you, Evie!  God, you so deserve a great guy like this.”

I don’t tell her that we still haven’t crossed the four date mark.  His greatness has yet to be confirmed.  I’ll just let her be happy for me. She worries about me enough as it is.

“Okay, well, I just didn’t want to walk in on some sort of weird sexual freak show. That’s all I called to tell you.”

“Not happening tonight regardless. I’m driving to Plano to meet with a prospective client.  Big oil family.  The wife throws lots of parties.  Spoils her daughters, that sort of thing.”

“Then how were you going to come pick me up if I’d said yes?”

“I’d reschedule. No deal comes before my best friend.  Hos before doughs.”

She snorts, which makes
me
snort, but my heart warms.  She really is a wonderful friend, and I doubt she knows how lost I’d be without her. It’s a miracle someone hasn’t nabbed her up yet and stolen her from me.  We’re both in our early thirties, and I know she won’t be on the market for much longer, especially once she finds a man who will help her get over her last bad relationship.  I’d be happy for her, of course, but I don’t like to think about losing her. Gives me hives.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I’ll be home late, probably. Gonna drive on in to Dallas to catch up with a friend of mine who just got back from Paris.  You remember me telling you about Lorelei, don’t you?”

A pang of envy slices through me. I
do
remember her telling me about Lorelei, Cherelyn’s childhood friend who also wanted to be a photographer.

“Yeah, I remember. She went to Paris, right?”

I’m sure Cherelyn can hear the envy, the hint of bitterness in my tone.  “Yeah, she did.  Sorry, boo.”

I shake my head, physically shaking off my ugly thoughts.  “Don’t be. I wouldn’t begrudge someone else living their dream just because I didn’t get to live mine.”

“But look at you now. You’re on your way to being a rich, famous painter.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Trust me. That’s gonna happen. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Maybe that’s just early onset arthritis.”

“In this body? I think not. I’m like a well-oiled machine, just prowling the waters until the right fish comes along to keep me barefoot, pregnant, and frumpy.  Arthritis comes
afterward.

We both laugh at that. “Before I forget, you had a delivery today. From one of the buyers, I think. Probably a thank you card and some expensive bauble.  Want me to open it or leave it in the kitchen?”

I wonder what it could be. I’m curious, but not
that
curious. I’ll be home soon enough.

“Meh, just leave it. It can wait. Be careful on the way to Plano, ’k? And text me when you get there.”

I have an app on my phone that reads texts aloud to me.

“Will do.  Have a lot of sex before you come back.”

My cheeks heat.  “I’ll try.”

“Do more than try, woman. Get in there and make it happen.”

“Okay, boss.”

“That’s more like it,” she replies with satisfaction. “See you tomorrow.”  I hear a smooching sound, and then she’s gone. I hang up the phone, still shaking my head over my crazy friend as I start to replace my personal things into my suitcase.

 

********

 

The trip home is quiet. Much more so than the trip down to New Orleans was.  Music plays softly in the background, and Levi toys with my fingers the entire way.  Melancholy fills the car, and I can’t decide if it’s because he doesn’t want the trip to be over yet either, or if there’s something else. Something he’s not telling me.

I hate to be so paranoid, but I have nothing but bad experiences to reinforce my suspicions.  No, what’s happened to me over the last thirteen years doesn’t mean that
all
men are that way—the leaving kind, the ones who don’t think I’m worth the trouble—but it certainly doesn’t give me great hope that I’ll find the ones who
aren’t.

It’s dark by the time Levi pulls through the gate and up to my building. Since he’s staying rather than just dropping me off, he can’t stay parked on the street. There’s a fifteen minute limit, so I know he’s at least staying that long.

He helps me out and then grabs my bag from the trunk before we head, hand in hand, toward my door.  I feel for my keys, for the one with the thick plastic coating and the number 1 carved into it, and I let us in.

Wordlessly, Levi pulls my luggage through the door and closes it behind us. I’m nervous and my fingers cling to his when he takes my hand.

“I had a great time.”

I swallow. That sounds like the beginning of every bad break-up line in the history of the world.

“I did, too,” I agree with a smile. “Thank you for taking me.”

“I wish we could’ve stayed longer.”

Does he really? Or is that just the polite thing to say?

Right before you sweep someone’s legs out from under them.

“Me, too.”

“Evie?” My name is little more than a whisper on his lips, a disturbance of air in the silence of the room.  He reaches up and traces my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and I wish more than ever that I could see. That I could see what’s going on in his mind through the portal of his eyes. I feel more blind in this moment than I have in years.

“Levi?” I respond, as is our little habit.

“Will you paint me?”

I frown. Of all the things I might’ve expected, this was nowhere in even the farthest reaches of my brain.

“Paint you?”

“Yes.  That’s what you were working on before we left, right?  A painting of me?”

He saw it. That day he came to tease me in my studio, he saw it. And recognized it. 

I nod, working hard to tamp down the surge of mortification that’s swelling in me. It’s like getting caught writing Mrs. Levi Michaelson all over my chemistry notebook. Only worse.

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